Bound
by MelvyPuck
Summary: Back when the Pearl was the Wicked Wench, when Captain Jack Sparrow worked for the East India Company... Jack comes across a slave auction and sets off a chain of events that may change his course forever. Bad summary, better story.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, all!

Allow us to introduce ourselves! We are Alel and Robin Goodlass!

Well, re-introduce, anyway, since we've both been here a while...

And this is our collaboration! It has been in development for quite a while now... and we hope you all like it!

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It was a disgusting trade: money for a human life. It was commonplace however and he was forced to be the Charon of the Atlantic, carrying the "product" to the colonies then returning for more. It was repetitive and tedious work but it was that trust-worthy work that helped him climb to the top of the ranks of the East India Trading Company. He wrinkled his nose in revulsion at the thought of it, selling a person for a few pieces of metal. Business was business though and he was simply a messenger.

That particular day found him, the captain of the Wicked Wench, in the bustling port of Zanzibar. He had since sold off his provisions of sugar, rum, cotton, firearms and other products and found himself intrigued by a slave auction proceeding not far from the docks. While his beloved ship was being loaded with "black gold" to return to the British ports in the Caribbean, he found himself drawn to the auction block, pulled by an invisible rope.

Morbid curiosity, perhaps? He was an abolitionist, of sorts, and refused to engage in the purchase of slaves. But watching the proceedings couldn't hurt, could it?

The captain lingered near the back of the crowd, occasionally scanning the mob for members of his crew and for potential crewmen as well.

No luck for either, unfortunately.

He turned his attention toward the auctioneer.

"Here we have a young woman, not yet twenty years of age. Very strong. Came from the Matamba tribe."

He watched as she was brought before the crowd. She was very small, though not frail by any stretch of the imagination. Her arms were visibly muscular and tribal tattoos wound around them like vines. Her hair was cropped short, almost melding in with her dark, intimidating complexion, giving her a savage-like appearance. She wore a wild-eyed expression of fear, but equally matching it was a look of fierce resolve. Onlookers laughed at the visible struggle she put up but the jest soon came to and end when the tail of a whip cracked against the young girl's back and subdued her into compliance.

"Certainly spirited, this one is, eh? We'll start the bidding..."

The captain found himself shouting his own bids over the roar of the crowd, each rising number becoming louder and louder.

He wondered what had overcome him. He made it a point to inform crewmen that he was against the slave trade and that he was only doing his job (however barbaric it was) and here he was bidding on a young innocent girl no less?

Still, he pressed on, the bids growing higher and higher.

_At this rate, all the money I made earlier will be gone..._

He caught the girl staring at him menacingly, catching him in a pause. She seemed to know it'd be him that would become her new master. The loathing gaze coming from her dark eyes almost made him shudder.

Too soon, however, there was a crash of the gavel and the auctioneer pointed judiciously at him.

"Sold, to the man in the back. What's your name, good sir?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Captain Sparrow? Of the Wench?"

"The very same."

"Ah, good man… take her to his fine vessel."

Jack watched as the man holding the girl carried her away effortlessly, despite her kicking and flailing about. The auctioneer came down and collected his earnings, leaving the captain nearly penniless.

He wondered what the Hell he had done, getting himself into such a mess.

He walked back to the ship in a daze, subconsciously yelling for his men. He wondered what they would think of her. He wondered what they would do to her.

He wondered what **he** was going to do with her.

For the first time, he dreaded going back on his ship.

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Aaand... finished! Please tell us what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Puck: Hello! Back again, with a new chapter...

Alel: And a disclaimer.

Puck: Because she forgot to make one last time.

Alel: -sob- I'm a bad person!

Puck: Indeed. So, anyway, we own nothing in this chapter, the last chapter, or any chapter to come.

Alel: 'Cuz if we did, we'd be too busy bathing in money and award nominations to write this.

Puck: Very true. So enjoy this copyright infringement.

Alel: And don't sue us poor writers. They're already only giving us water, bread crusts, and a small salt ration.

Puck: And with that 'bout of exaggeration, on with the second chapter!

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The crewmen grumbled as they boarded the Wench.

"We was promised another night onshore..."

"Might not get another stop for months..."

Sparrow paid them no mind, and by nightfall the port was far behind them. He felt he had business of the utmost urgency to attend to.

Setting his first mate in charge, Sparrow walked, somewhat hesitantly, to his cabin. There, his new "purchase" was waiting.

He paused at the door for a moment, trying to collect a bit of composure. He was still rather shaken by this whole situation, an unusual feeling for someone whose confidence often bordered on out-and-out arrogance.

He opened the door tentatively, peering inside.

"_Well, she's there..."_

She sat cross-legged on the floor, her eyes closed in meditation. Gazing at her a moment, he noticed the chains still bound her wrists and ankles. He grimaced when he saw that they had rubbed her skin raw, with red, chapped patched peeking out underneath the shackles.

Taking a deep, sudden breath, Sparrow strode in quickly, his movements deliberate; he had no desire to appear as nervous as he actually was.

Pausing mid-step, he looked her way, but saw no reaction to his presence.

Maybe she hadn't heard him. He cleared his throat.

The girl's eyes shot open, her cold look of hatred piercing him like poison arrows.

It stung.

"It's not so bad, really…" he began, but faltered in her glare.

After a second, she looked away. He was free, for the moment, so he tried to initiate conversation.

"Are you going to speak, girl, or is this to be a one-sided sort of affair?"

She turned back toward him, her eyes a bit softer but still not trusting in the least. "If you allow it."

He winced at the remark. "I... I do. You've the right to speak, er, always... "

She chose not to exercise it.

_'Get it together, Jack..._' he thought, frustrated with himself.

The silence was painful. He forced himself to go on.

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, of the East India Trading Company, and this great, lovely ship we're aboard is the Wicked Wench."

Still the silence.

He sighed dejectedly and walked over to her. She was startled by his sudden movement, jumping back away from him and barricading herself in a corner. Slowly, he bent down and placed the keys he'd received from the auctioneer before her. She was stunned.

He raised his eyes to meet hers. "It's wise to note, miss, that as long as you're on this ship, you're free as any man... err… woman."

She looked him straight in the eye.

"Don't toy with me, master. I beg you. You can do what you want with me, but get it over with. Please... there's nothing more you could do to harm me."

Jack was taken aback, saddened as he imagined what she'd been through.

He took a seat on the floor in front of her, to try and give her the hint of the equality.

"Miss, I'd never want to hurt you. I detest this trade, and I don't know why in Hell's name I bought you. But, my intention- my only intention- is to drop you off at a safe, free port in the Caribbean, or maybe the Americas, depending on where I'm assigned to drop off the rest of this… cargo." He made a sour face at the word and quietly apologized for it.

"Apologies, master, but I don't believe you."

Sparrow rolled his eyes at this, but he understood. Taking action on his words, he snatched up the keys, unlocked her bonds and tossed them to the other side of the room. She flinched when he took her wrist, but relaxed when she realized it was not a hard, yanking, heartless touch but a kind, friendly one.

"You mean it, don't you, master?" She asked, amazed.

"None of this 'master' business. Captain, please."

"Yes... Captain."

"And your name is?"

"Nzingha Kiluanji, daughter of the Ngola of the Mbundu kingdom of Ndongo." She replied, her head rose in a noble's manner.

"That's quite a title..." He paused, trying to get a grip on her name. "Nzingha..."

She laughed at his incorrect pronunciation but then stiffened, half-expecting an angry slap.

"How do you pronounce it then?" He asked her.

She opened one eye, looking at him, then relaxed. "NZING-ha."

"NZING-ha…" he repeated slowly.

She nodded with a smile.

"I'll be on the lookout for a nickname for you."

She laughed, a bit nervously. He smiled.

"Well, Miss Nzingha, way I see it, you and I aren't much different."

She looked at him quizzically. "And how can you know that already?"

"We both know what it's like to be bound, to be deprived of our freedom."

She raised an eyebrow, a skeptical gesture. "I'm afraid I highly doubt that, sir."

His expression hardened, and he turned his gaze from her. "Do you think I enjoy taking the same routes back and forth across the ocean, dealing with people and product I can't stand? Always being so... obedient... to the men I work for? To such... scum? I have no will of my own, no real say in anything. I do as I'm told, no questions, no excuses. But, I'm trusted, and someday, I'll be making the rules, it'll be my gold rolling in, and my ship to take wherever the bloody Hell I please. But as for now, I'm a slave to this stifling, man-trading, order-taking line of work."

He finished with a great sigh.

"Freedom…" Nzingha echoed, dreamily. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright, dear. Sooner or later, I'll be tossing this powdered wig as far out to sea as I

can." Jack sighed, standing up. "Are you hungry?"

She shook her head no before being betrayed by her growling stomach.

"I'll get us something to eat, then." He started towards the door but stopped shortly, turning. "Miss Nzingha, promise me something."

"Yes, Captain?"

"If anyone ever so much as lays an unfriendly finger on you, you must tell me. No matter what they threaten you with, I need to know. I swear no harm will come to you while you're on my ship. I may be forced to transport slaves, but you, miss, are a guest on this ship and nothing less."

"Yes sir."

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Puck: So, what do you think? Our greatest goal in this fic is to make it as realistic and true-to-form as possible and to keep our lovely Nzingha out of Mary-Sue-dom. Thus, it is you, the reader's job, to keep watch out for anything inconsistent and/or Mary-Sue-like. Promise us you'll tell us if something happens!! Thanks and please review, ya'll are lovely!!

Alel: -laughs at Puck's use of the word "y'all" and also its incorrect spelling -

Big Thanks to our first two reviewers, SlainByBunnies and WonkasRose, we really appreciate it!!


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